


Storm of Secrecy

by CapitalFantasy



Series: Ray of Sunshine [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Decisions, Body Dysphoria, Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hunk (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Hunk (Voltron)-centric, Hunk has an eating disorder, Hurt Hunk (Voltron), Mental Health Issues, Purging, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapitalFantasy/pseuds/CapitalFantasy
Summary: Even angels have their devils...
Series: Ray of Sunshine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028472
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Storm of Secrecy

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading, I liked to inform whomever crosses this story a couple of things.
> 
> Writing about a completely different character I don’t really know a lot about is completely out of my comfort zone, so I’ll try my absolute best to show Hunk’s emotion in my writing.
> 
> Why put this pressure onto myself? Well, I wanted to do something different and focus my attention on characters I wouldn’t normally search, read or write about. Also, this idea was like a stain I couldn't remove and would not leave my head for weeks......
> 
> And here we are.
> 
> Also, this may be a slow-working project as I’m currently in the middle of writing another story, so apologises if the waiting time for updates are long.

_Everyone says destroy what destroys you, right?_

_But what if the thing destroying you is yourself?_

\- Anonymous 

"-and that's how me and _mi hermoso azul_ swooped in and kicked the Galras' butts into outer space."

The paladins were currently stationed around the long, oval dining table in their respectful seats. Hot pots and plates littered the table, practically choking it with the most obscene amount of space food all the cookware had to offer. All courtesy of Hunk, who had for many hours, cooked and spiced and sizzled and fried a variety of weird-looking delectables as a reward for another victory achieved by Team Voltron. 

After a gruelling battle, the lions gaining new scratches and dents into their metal armour and the paladins earning a few (luckily) minor injuries, they came out in triumph. Upon their arrival back to the Castle of Lions, did they practically deflate on the couches in the common room, limbs sprawled out like starfish. 

God knows how long their butts were glued to the cushions; their bodies having lost all control and energy. Up to date, that battle was definitely rated somewhere in the top ten of exhausting encounters with the Galra Empire. Lance had made that very clear. 

While Hunk began preparing dinner, which turns out to be a feast fit for a King or two, the others wandered off into the many hallways of the Altean warship.

Lance and Pidge returned to their dorms to take a well-deserved and a much needed shower to clear the sweat and blood sticking to their skin and hair. 

Shiro had already begun discussing plans for the next step of terminating Zarkon with Allura and Coran. No surprise there.

Last of all was Keith, who definitely by no-one’s surprise had retreated to the training deck and continued with more fighting since he didn’t get enough during the battle a few hours prior. How he had energy was beyond Lance. Must be the galra genes he concluded.

Back to the present, Keith scoffs at Lance’s declaration. “You wish.” 

A fiery spark ignites in Lance’s eyes as he glares at his rival. “Aw, is mullet jealous?”

“Not even close. I think you’ve missed your mark, sharpshooter.” He answers back, sipping his juice box. Of course this just pisses Lance off. 

“Ooo look at me. My name is Keith. I’m such a show off. Everyone can kiss my boots. My mullet is so last season.” Lance mocks, making jazz hands as he goes along.

Now he had officially caught Keith’s attention. Pulling the straw away from his lips, it’s his turn to glare daggers at Lance who’s smirk annoys him on greater lengths.

“At least I know how to fly without crashing into every single thing every five seconds.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about _my_ piloting? What about yours?!”

Keith side-eyes him. “What about it?”

Lance simply gawks at him like he’s meeting the most idiotic human being to ever live. He begins pointing out Keith’s reckless decisions and his crazy flying tricks that were in Lance’s case, near suicidal.

Keith, however, sees nothing wrong. He rolls his eyes and returns back to his food which wiggles like jelly.

But Lance had a lot more to say. “Hey, don’t turn your back to me. I’m not finished.”

“Not my fault you’re boring me. Can I have my money back?”

“Oh you cheeky mother-”

For Shiro, enough is enough. Anymore and he’s sure more grey hairs will grow out his scalp. “Alright you two, knock it off. Hunk,” moving on from the rivalling friends “thank you for the wonderful meal. You’ve out done yourself.”

Remembering who had gone out their way to prepare scrumptious food to fill their bellies, the other paladins, including Allura and Coran quickly send their gratitude. 

The man himself blushes a soft pink and a bashful smile appears. Hunk takes off his cooking gloves before waving a hand in a dismissive manner.

“It’s no problem. You guys know I love to cook. Back home, my mama always made sure to whip up good food and give everyone a slice. She’d never let food leave anyone’s sight and never will. It’s a family thing.”

“You should be proud of yourself Hunk.” Allura praises, taking a generous bite off a piece of purple meat stabbed onto her fork.

Coran, unlike Allura, had stuffed his mouth to the brim of delicious food, cheeks swollen like a hamster storing nuts. Unable to speak, he enthusiastically nods towards Hunk.

Pidge pipes in, “yeah. The food is awesome. How do you make it taste and smell so good? You’re like a food magician.”

Hunk smiles brightly at her compliment.

“Uh-uh,” Lance says, shaking his head “more like a food genius. A master of food.”

“Food magician sounds better.” 

“Shut up mullet.”

“Make me.”

“That’s enough.”

The warmth fills his heart and Hunk feels as if you pull the string, he’ll pop like a party popper from all the happiness bubbling up inside him. He knew his food was good, but hearing the compliments and seeing the joy and comfort it brings to people made him feel proud. 

However....

“Hey Hunk?” Lance calls from across the table. Setting his plate down, Hunk looks over to Lance and immediately sees the confusion written on his friend’s face.

“Yeah buddy?”

“How come you have so little on your plate?” Eyeing Hunk’s plate. Looking back down, Hunk realises what had stole Lance’s attention.

Now usually when it came to dinner, Hunk always served himself a large plateful of food to satisfy his hunger. A chunky but muscular man like him needed a good sized portion to maintain his energy. However looking at his plate at this moment of time, it was a drastic change.

A small scoop here and a small scoop there left only a quarter of his dinner plate full. Despite the massive buffet, Hunk deliberately chose tiny spoonful servings of very few foods. Swallowing back the anxiety, Hunk quickly makes up a story to hide the truth.

“My stomach still feels rather unsettled after the battle actually. I may have pushed too hard on going upside-down at such speed and now I’m facing the consequences. I’d like to take it easy on the food tonight instead of shoving down the usual amount and throwing it all up onto the table-”

“Okay, that’s a good enough reason. Say no more.” Pidge urges disgusted by the thought of vomit, especially as she is eating.

“Agreed.” Keith concurred, looking away from Hunk.   
  
“Good call Hunk. See if you’re feeling better tomorrow.” Shiro says.

The lie seemed to have passed the test and Hunk inwardly breaths a sigh of relief when everyone’s eyes avert until another subject is brought up. 

Hunk is finally able to take his seat and whenever the coast was clear, he’d slip cut up pieces of food into his napkin. 

No-one suspected a thing and that made Hunk happier.

* * *

  
Nightfall fell or perhaps the black void outside grew even darker. Either way all the passengers living inside the castle headed off to bed, but not before Shiro had to drag Keith by his shirt away from the training deck and ask Coran to close the door to stop him from training late into the night.

Sleep was a priority, whether Keith liked it or not. 

Problems resolved, it was time to hit the sack. A “goodnight Pidge” followed by a “shut up Lance”, everyone succumbed to a night of blissful sleep. 

Except for one...

Wide awake and alert, Hunk laid underneath his covers as quiet as a mouse. Head against the pillow, his mind tumbled into Wonderland and there were no rabbits with pocket watches or a mad tea party. 

Mind distracted, his hands were working up a storm on his pudgy stomach. Every touch left a sour taste in his mouth as the blubbery rolls covered by his mahogany skin jiggled distastefully. Hips padded with fat and ribs drowned in it, what should’ve been a perfect body was an ugly one. 

This horrible thought rages inside his head and no matter where he tosses and turns, it stayed put. Frustrated and fed-up of waiting, Hunk sits up in his bed and is disturbed by the low growls ejecting from his stomach. Placing a hand to soothe the hungry organ, Hunk decides now is the time to get a midnight snack since a couple of hours had passed. By now, he was sure everyone was well into their slumber. 

The small springs inside the mattress groan in relief as the weight crushing it was removed and Hunk glances down in shame. He was already feeling bad and that just had to go and make him feel even worse. Sighing, Hunk shoves his feet into his yellow lion slippers while trying to smooth the fitting cotton of his pyjama shirt over his bulging stomach. Feet leading the way, the door slides open with a harsh hiss and Hunk quickly steps into the hallway just as the door shuts. 

Waiting a few seconds, his ears pick up on the muffled snores. Not wanting to waste precious time, Hunk starts to walk away from his dorm and onto a path he's taken one too many times he could do it blindfolded. Each step led him closer to his destination and the more he walked, the more his stomach growled like a lion. 

Another set of doors slide open and the familiarity hits Hunk. Everyone had a room somewhere in the castle which in some shape or form reminded them of something held close to their hearts, whether it’d be their family or something that reflects their personality. The kitchen was Hunk’s.

Every tasty concoction he could magically whip up with a spoon and a bowl was one of his many tricks when it comes down to cooking. Pidge was right - he was a food magician and like any magician, Hunk had a lot of tricks up his sleeve but also had some secrets he never wished to share....

Switching on the light, Hunk finds himself standing in the middle of the pantry face-to-face with plastic containers containing mouth-watering food resting upon rows and rows of shelves. Automatically his hands launch for the nearest container. Inside, there were red balls with a label on top saying “pasta balls”.

Walking out Hunk sets the container onto the counter and pulls open a draw to grab a fork. Using the other hand, he rips the lid off and unceremoniously throws it aside, out of sight and out of mind.

Stomach rumbling like a volcano, he stabs the utensil into the food and raises it to his awaiting mouth, chomping down onto it greedily. One by one, the red balls disappear into his mouth and as soon as he finished chewing one, his hand readily picks up another. He repeats this action until the container is empty and the food rests at the bottom of his stomach. Not a crumb remained. 

Rubbing circles on his tummy, he knows the tank isn’t full and tastebuds dissatisfied. He needs more and he needs it now. Food is a comfort thing, and right now the more he shoves down, the less the thoughts hurt. He needs food!

Whacking the container with the back of his hand sends the poor thing flying but Hunk couldn’t care less as he strides back inside the pantry and fills his arms with containers until the one on top touches his squared chin. On auto-pilot his feet drag him back to the counter and like a claw machine, the tower of containers crumble onto the counter in a messy pile. 

Hands grabbing another container, he yet again rips the lid off urgently and grabs a handful of green triangles. A series of crunches emit from within his mouth as his teeth chomp down onto the food and a bulge swells momentarily in his throat when the food is swallowed to make way for more. 

The feast had only just begun...

From jelly cubes and extraterrestrial-looking vegetables and fruits to clearing the pantry then the fridge, Hunk’s stomach is on the verge of bursting, skin stretched paper-thin as the organ lets out angry groans while trying its best to digest the food.

Poor bugger was out of breath in the end by the sheer fullness pushing viciously against the walls of his stomach. Face flushed, he straightens his posture after leaning against the sharp edge of the counter (most likely leaving a red mark embedded in his skin) with both hands clasped down onto the massively bloated belly. 

Despite eating so much in such a short time, Hunk physically felt sick by his bloated appearance and the sour taste from earlier on returns. Touching every flab of fat was like touching nettles. Horrible and frightening. Had he really let himself go like this? His mama and papa would be ashamed and the thought of that is a stake through his heart.

They wanted a son, not a pig.  
  
He was made to feel more disgusted when his eyes land on the pile of empty containers littering the counter. Wiping his mouth, a few crumbs fall onto the floor and the fabric covering his arm was stained in grease. Hollow on the inside, Hunk quickly goes to town on clearing the counter free of another late-night binge.

Lids back on, containers filling the shelves and a final scrub down, Hunk pats himself on the back with his work. But now was not time to gaze in pride as there was one more thing to do and the thoughts weren’t going to let him run away with what’s needed to be done...

No matter how many times he’s faced the final stage, Hunk has never enjoyed it but the overwhelming satisfaction and pleasure he gets dethrones the shame and sadness.

Kitchen clean, Hunk leaves the room to the final destination of the night. Maybe because he was so stuffed, walking was much slower but for some reason the journey back to his bedroom was taking forever. 

Growing impatient as time was running out, Hunk picks up from a snail’s pace to a speedy walk and a few more lefts and rights, he finally stands outside his bedroom door. 

It slides open and closes just as fast after Hunk enters. He hisses as a sudden pain hits his stomach, sharp like a knife belonging to Gordon Ramsey. Ignoring the pain, Hunk walks into the bathroom and kneels in front of the toilet. Lifting the seat up, Hunk mentally prepares himself and expels a few deep breaths through the nose and out the mouth. With a final forceful exhale, Hunk nods and leans into the toilet. 

A face he does not want to see is embedded in the tiny puddle of water below and the longer he stares, the more he is disgusted. Jaw too big, eyes too small and nose too bulbous - this was not a pretty picture and Hunk desperately wanted to change that, so this is what it came down to.

Two fingers squashed together, Hunk pushes them past his lips, over his tongue and hammers down onto his gag reflex. Immediately his body reacts and a few gurgled coughs choke out of Hunk. Nerves of steel, he blocks it out and carries on, his fingertips hitting the back of his throat with vengeance.

Nothing except the usual coughing and gagging ensues but after a while, Hunk starts to feel the effects churning deep down. Not long left to go, he quickens the pace and forces his fingers down further and harder wanting this to be over and done with.

Chest heaving and tears collecting in the corners of his eyes, Hunk pushes down even further and it was the last straw for his stomach.

Chunks of regurgitated food shoot up his oesophagus and spews out his mouth in a disgusting spray of liquid and saliva. The fingers down his throat take the brunt of the force and Hunk isn’t quick enough to remove them as hell rains down into the toilet. 

Retching violently, Hunk removes his vomit-covered fingers out his mouth as more food mushed up with stomach acids gushes out between his parted lips and hits the toilet water with loud splashes, the impact ridiculously hard. 

Salty tears fall down his cheeks like a river as his stomach continues to eject it’s half-digested contents. It was bloody horrible, but it needed to be done. His stomach had had its feed and now Hunk was only trying to make himself feel better. His appetite was satisfied, so now he had to satisfy the thoughts. Maybe not the best way to do so but it works and that’s what Hunk was after. 

Forcing himself to vomit was the after-dinner mint to his binge-eating. He could not miss it. 

Hunk doesn’t know how long he kneeled there for, knees eventually screaming in pain and legs growing numb but he refused to move until all the food he’d ate was flushed down the toilet drain, far away and forgotten. 

A couple more gags, the once near bursting stomach now felt as light as a feather. Spitting out some leftover chunks, Hunk pants heavily as he tries to settle down and calm his racing heart. He’d done this many times in the past so why his body wasn’t used to it confused him. Oh well, he needs to get rid of the prime evidence before anyone sees it. 

Lifting his head away, a beefy hand grabs ahold of the toilet handle and as soon as he pulls down, the toilet gurgles and a whirlpool of vomit and water spins around inside. The vile smell dispatches when the vomit is flushed down the drain and Hunk breathes a sigh of relief. 

Another successful night. 

Now to rid the smell in his mouth. When Hunk stands up, his legs scream in pain and a couple of cracks and pops emit all over his body. Staring down at the toilet for a final look of the night, Hunk huffs and steps over to the sink. 

He squeezes a large amount of toothpaste onto the roof of white bristles before shoving it into his mouth to scrub away the tiny bits and foul taste. Gums bleeding, Hunk swirls his toothbrush clean and spits out a mouthful of minty foam. 

Toothbrush set aside, he cups his hands and fills them with cold water. Watching the water fill his hands and hit his skin in a soothing sensation, he waits until the cool liquid rises near the brim before throwing it into his mouth. Washing every inch of his mouth, he gurgles loudly then spews the dirty water back into the sink. 

Sniffling, Hunk makes up his mind to head straight to bed. You never know when the Galra would strike and he definitely didn’t want to put himself or his team in danger because he didn’t get enough sleep. 

However something had taken ahold of his attention and now Hunk regrets looking ahead. The mirror was of many purposes. Something a person spends hours staring at their reflection, giving themselves kisses or something else less obnoxious. 

Nothing in Hunk’s reflection did he think was the slightest bit pretty. So many disproportions and grotesque features, he could honestly throw up again. It was a monster out of a horror movie or made little kids cry. What was this monster staring back at him? Why was the monster in the mirror copying his movements like when he raises a hand to his cheek? 

Because it is him.

Whenever he catches sight of his figure in a reflection, he turns away in disgust, shame and hate. The more he stares, the more nasty the thoughts taunt him.

_**“Fat pig.”** _

_**“Oink oink piggy.”** _

_**“How does your fat ass fit into chairs?”** _

_**“It’s already crushed your bed, the chair will be next, fatty.”** _

_**“Fat, fat, fat!”** _

Yes, our dear Hunk truly believes he is fat. A big, fat, ugly pig. Food has destroyed his self-esteem and his life. Food had made kids in his class bully and make a mockery of his weight. Food had caused him to turn into a bloated pig and burst buttons off his jeans. Food is his enemy and now, the past had come back to haunt and taunt him in such evil ways. 

Food gave him comfort but also gave him a curse. A curse to be overweight. To be fat. To be a pig. 

Hunk was determined to change that, no matter the consequences....

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to write this as a series. Something else a little different than what I normally do.
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kudos.


End file.
